Sweetest Revenge
by LoveToday15
Summary: Isabella never thought she'd have to watch her family die and work with vampires to get her revenge. She never thought she'd have to struggle to live another day in Mystic Falls... Full sum inside,
1. Chapter 1

**Sweetest Revenge: 4x01 TVD**

**I want to clear things up by saying that I never wanted this life. Most times people think they become who they are because there was always a part of them—their darkest part, that made them end up that way.**

**I never had a dark spot in me. I was innocent, I was loved and I had a shining future ahead.**

**But then Fate must have PMS'd all over my life and, well, I was stuck in a world I didn't belong in and thirsty for revenge. I watched everyone I love die—figuratively and literally. But I had made a few pacts over their memories. If you've ever lost anyone, you would understand the need for closure, revenge. I knew I couldn't die without my vengeance, and those pacts had sealed my future, a future dedicated to my family.**

* * *

"Where is he?"

It had taken me hours to get here, to this point. I still didn't quite know where I was—but I knew who I was looking for.

"Where's Klaus?"

Four people stared back at me. With energy running in my veins, I identified them quickly. A witch, a vampire, a human, and a hybrid. I wondered whether the hybrid would know where Klaus was, if he was so close to him. I wondered why the hell a human was in a basement with serious witch energy and three other non-humans.

Technically, I was human too. But I had connections to the vamp world—connections a certain Hybrid had claimed he would cut, but that was _before _he killed my family and sealed my place in the world.

I turned away from them and looked around the basement in agitation.

"Klaus! You can come out. I'm not leaving here and there's only one exit!"

A thousand voices slammed into me and rocked me on my feet. They screeched and hissed at me to get out, and I didn't just hear them; I could feel them, and understand what they were saying even if all voices were saying something different.

They all wanted me out—to go back to where I came from.

I put a hand to my head and winced. I couldn't deal with witches. Their powers pricked and jabbed me.

"Not the right time, Isabella," The hybrid in front of me spoke sharply and took a step toward me. The voices abated but the violence in the air did not.

"Who the hell are you?" I demanded, wondering how he knew my name.

"I'm Klaus." He growled, clearly displeased with his current form. I frowned before moving on, remembering how he changed forms when he needed to. "Now what are you doing here? I'm busy."

"I couldn't care less. We had a deal and you broke it."

"What the hell are you talking about?" He crossed his arms—or whoever's arms they were—over the chest of the body he was taking over.

"You guaranteed protection for my family," My voice was a low growl. "They've been taken."

His lips parted in surprise before he covered up the expression.

"Well, I've been a little busy," he shot a dark look at the witch, who had her head turned away from him but looking down as if he was the lowest scum of the earth. He had that effect on the good witches.

"Well, we didn't agree over you only protecting my family when you're not '_busy.'" _I spat. "We agreed you would guarantee protection over my family. You gave me your _word."_

He couldn't argue with that, but he was already shaking his head in denial.

"There's nothing I can do in this _body,_" He spat and looked down at the body as he said it. "And—ah, it's not my problem!" He raised his voice over the last part as he realized he was wasting time.

"The hell it's not!" I clenched my fists. "You gave me your word! You told me your word was as sure as your existence!"

He growled in impatience then stared down at me in annoyance.

"Your family are natural victims, Isabella. It was only inevitable they would be put in harm again. Really, what did you expect? Everything would be safe and good—"

People say when violence takes over, they move so fast they can't comprehend what they're doing—what they've done until it's too late.

I didn't work that way.

I lunged at him and he was against the wall in the next moment, under my arm. I relished in every movement I made that allowed me to get back into action, and I didn't hold back.

He was weaker in this form and I was stronger—from the little meal I had earlier before coming here. He knew it too; that if we fought now, I had an even chance.

"Let go." He growled. "Now,"

"Do not talk of my family as if you know them."

"Maybe I don't know your family—but I've known them in ways you never will. I've heard them _scream_ and _writhe_ in blood and pain and _beg_ for the torture to end—"

My violence took over again and I punched him hard in the nose. Behind me, the vampire girl cried out and screamed something—for us to stop, maybe, as Klaus pushed me away and allowed his nose to heal.

I was snarling. There was a rage, a bloodlust inside me—for _his _blood. I wanted to see him writhe for filling those pictures in my mind. I wanted to tear him apart.

"You do not—"my voice was shaking with rage. I couldn't get the words out right. He would die. Fuck serving revenge cold. He was roaring too—and then a white heat blared through my skull and I was bending over, hands on my knees. His fists were raised and he was about to hit me, before at last moment he seemed to remember I was human and stopped himself. "Hit me," I snarled at him and straightened. My fist flew out and I punched him over and over, until he was winded. "Hit me!" I leaned back and stopped. I wanted more, more fighting, more power.

"You want a fight?" His fist lashed out and half a dozen blows whacked me in the ribs and my head. I doubled over, my ribs cracking loudly as they healed and shifted back into place.

I tripped him while I was still down and pushed him to the floor. He was back on his feet and my nose was healing and bleeding from a rapid fire punch he'd thrown at me. I punched him in the ear harder, and blood spurted. He reeled sideways, staggering. He healed and I watched before he shattered my knee and I groaned, landing hard on the floor. He straddled me and punched my sides—then he was stuck in a man sized hole in the wall of the basement.

And I flew back into the opposite side, creating a smaller hole in the wall and a dozen melted candles fell around me as I slumped.

"Stop it!" The witches voice rang out with power and I was rooted to my spot, glaring at Klaus. Unlike me, he was immensely satisfied, like he had been waiting to beat me for months and only now had the chance. I wanted more.

"_I say when we're done!"_ I roared, but I couldn't move. The witch shivered at the madness, the fury in my voice—I heard it as much as everyone else—but didn't release me.

Everyone began to talk at once, and it was like the witches, only there was no power.

"_Everyone shut up_!" My command tore from my throat and pushed into every corner, crack and crevice of this basement, urging everyone to obey. The reactions were all the same; instantaneous and simultaneous, silent. Klaus stared hard at me, narrowing the body's eyes. I knew what he was thinking, and I decided to deal with the repercussions later. "I am not here to talk to all of you." I stared hard at the witch, vampire and human. "I'm not going to harm anyone. I just—"

The compulsion wore off as it was, even for the human. They all immediately started talking again. I wondered how it was possible for three of them to make so much noise.

Klaus and I communicated with our eyes, because the witch still hadn't released us.

_You said nothing of this to me? _His eyes were hard and dangerous.

_I'm not here to talk about me, _I replied. We had been doing it for a while, but he never mentioned it out loud. Most times I insulted him with my eyes, to which he couldn't help but reciprocate to.

_You have to tell me if you want me to save your family, _his eyes said. I shot him a disbelieving glance.

_Save them first, _I demanded.

_Tell me first._

_Not a chance in hell, _I bared my teeth.

_Then you're not getting my help, _he shrugged and kept his eyes on me. I gritted my teeth.

_Then you've just lost your secret weapon, _I told him.

Rage took over his features and he growled loudly. _I lost nothing—_

I looked away in the middle of his sentence, blowing him off. He growled louder, and I noticed the witch giving us a hard look. She was wearing away at the edges. Holding us must be taking a lot of her power.

She dropped us both at the same time as though she read my mind and realized she was weakening.

"Butt out," I snapped at her. "It's between me and him."

"I'm not going to let you ruin the basement for your feud,"

Loud, clomping footsteps interrupted my words and made me turn as Carlo entered. The look on Klaus's—er, the body's face, was murderous and he turned to send me an accusatory glare. I pointedly rose my eyebrows at Carlo, ignoring Klaus.

"I found them," He shot Klaus a fleeting look but otherwise kept his gaze on me. "I think they're being used as bait."

"That's ridiculous," I scoffed. He tilted his head and crossed his arms. "Why would anyone use them as bait?"

"Maybe to bait you in," Klaus remarked dryly, sending me a look of white hot fury. He was trying to catch my gaze. I was trying to avoid his.

"That would be most likely," Carlo agreed. "We should go when they least expect it," he nodded toward the staircase and began walking up.

"You're working with Carlo?" Klaus demanded. I shot him a frosty look, noting the rage behind his eyes. I knew if he was in his own body his face would be expressionless.

"I work with no one." I snapped.

"He could take advantage of you in a second," Klaus hissed and took a step forward.

"Oh, because you haven't?" I paused at the staircase and folded my arms over my chest. "I have my own agenda. Screw you."

I paused once more to look at everyone in the basement. I had a fleeting horror as I realized I had revealed too much about myself—before I shook the thought away. I couldn't care less what these people thought of me. What mattered was my family.

I walked back up the stairs without another look behind me.

They say you start living life when you step out of your comfort zone.

And when you start living your life, it's like a wake-up call. You don't think about what you used to—you change.

What would I know of life? I'm a 23 year old girl—almost, in two weeks, and I've been hopping from city to city and states around America. But I've matured in the past 2 years more than I could ever have thought.

Losing everyone you love will do that to you.

I suppose it would make more sense to start my story from the beginning—not from when I was born, but from the moment I started losing everything.

It didn't quite work that way. You'll have to take my word when I say that I was born a normal girl, with a loving family, regular ambitions. I didn't mean to become like this. I wasn't born into this life like others were. That's where my story differs. I did not know what I was—or rather, _who _I was.

My story is not told in light.

I didn't step out of my comfort zone. I had been thrust out of it with a severe wake up call. My whole life had been spent smelling roses and surrounded by a loving family. Suddenly I was smelling blood and seeing vampires, watching my family die, running for my life and selfishly, leaving my brothers behind.

I had left my brothers behind, and that was my first mistake of life—the first huge mistake that led me to this life and the end of theirs.

We were all too young to wake up and see dead bodies in our living room—the dead bodies of our _parents. _We never moved on. I carried them with me every moment of my life. I saw their disapproval or pride and imagined what they'd say to me. At the end of the day, when I ran out of things to do or I was helpless, everything went back to them and getting my revenge.

The most pressing question had been, why them? And the answer was simple; because of me.

I was the girl who laughed at Buffy the Vampire Slayer and took nothing seriously. The worst horrors in my life before my parents were killed were unexpected maths tests or a double period of gym.

Now? I had seen torture and watched innocent people be murdered. My will to live had shattered a long time ago, my humanity died with the first taste of power.

I was born a human with a dark power. I was never supposed to discover it. It was not one of a kind, but it was rare. I had been tracked down and my family had paid the price. A certain Hybrid had turned my brothers into vampires—my _kid _brothers. And I would avenge my brothers lives, but first I'd have to avenge my parents. I had a thorough agenda. I would kill Klaus, and when I found out who had killed my parents, I would watch them suffer, human or vampire. I would get my brothers through this—maybe have them somehow turned back into humans, as impossible as it sounded.

But it was all temporary. One day I'd forget this pain. One day I'll be happy and my brothers would be fixed and I'd have my revenge. I would move on with my life. I would live through Mystic Falls—and that hope was the only thing that kept me going, the only thing that woke me up in the morning.

Because every day I open my eyes and remember my family, I knew I would do _anything _for that life back. I would do _anything _for the closure I needed, and I would do _anything _just to keep breathing.

But it wasn't exactly death that was the hard part. It was coming back to life that sucked.

* * *

**Let me know what you think :) I'll be putting up a new chapter soon and my story line will be going along the TV show.**


	2. Chapter 2

"How'd you know where I was?" I asked Carlo when I reached the top. My words met air. Closing the door behind me, I frowned and turned around, looking for him. "Carlo?"

I found him leaning against his motorbike near my car. I flicked a twig off the top of it as I asked him again.

He watched me with narrowed eyes.

"Does it matter?" You couldn't get vaguer than that. I shot him an exasperated look, but seemingly all the men in my life were the same—they got nothing in their heads if they were preoccupied.

Carlo was glaring holes into me, looking up and down, analysing. I stepped away from my car and crossed my arms, narrowed my eyes, and waited for the berating.

"Do you have to pick a fight with him every time you see him?"

I rolled my eyes. Typical.

"Oh, come on. He was _asking _for it. You should have seen it—he was totally egging me on!"

"You were _enjoying _it." He said, deadpan. I shot him a look of disbelief and voiced my thoughts.

"Are you insane? Of course I was enjoying it. That bastard had it coming since day one—"

"No, according to you, he had it coming since he overtook you in your last feud."

"That—that was different." I snapped. "I was inexperienced—"

"And you still are." He said tightly. "Now, do you want your brothers back?" I glared at him for his method of ending the conversation. He took my silence as an affirmative. "They're being held at a barn with a few other vampires. The pastor has them in his custody—"

"Custody?" I repeated incredulously. "What, they're having a tea party with blood spiked drinks?"

Carlo shot me a dark look. He hated being interrupted.

"He has guards watching them. The Hybrid's sister has been caught too," He gestured sharply back to the house, referring to Klaus's sister Rebekah. He nodded to my car. "Get in and drive. We're going to the barn at nightfall. I'll call you before I pick you up."

Which could only mean we were taking his Ducati, surprisingly. He usually only used it for quick trips and not rescue missions.

"Shouldn't we take my Maybach?" I asked, running a hand over the door. "I should be carrying—"

"No weaponry, Isabella. I'll be taking care of the humans while you get your family."

"How will I get my brothers home?"

He shot me an almost-smile before getting on his bike and riding off.

I tried not to dwell too much on what 'taking care' might mean. Carlo would do his job and I mine. But I couldn't help thinking of their families, if they had any.

I ignored those thoughts. The only thing I would be worrying about was running with my brothers back home, evidently that would be the only way to go home as some sort of twisted training session from Carlo.

He never outright said I needed to improve my strength, I mused in my head.

I drove back to my apartment and got ready for the night ahead.

* * *

Night did not fall—it slammed down on me. Carlo gave me a missed call and I was outside in the next second, the freezing air seeped through my tights and my bare arms through my tank as we screamed past air along the road. At sharp corners I could feel him grow more agitated as I clutched at his shoulders.

His motorbike was quieter than most. We barely made a sound as he halted beside a '67 blue Chevy Camaro. I tilted my head as I got off, realizing we wouldn't have made so much noise anyway if Carlo's bike was the loudest, roaring machine.

It was a farm type house, secluded area, quiet, sweet.

There was a vampire—dressed in all black, big surprise there—stabbing the end of a rifle into a guards chest. I winced at the strangled noise he made before he went down and looked toward Carlo, unsure of what to make of it. He paid no attention to the vampire, but the vampire had turned and was shooting us suspicious glares, feet away from the body he had just dropped roughly.

"I don't think you need to worry about the guards." Carlo said tightly.

"Who the hell are you?" The vampire demanded. I shot Carlo an uncertain glance. He let out a small sigh and got off the bike, shooting me a dark look.

"Try not to get any trouble," He warned/challenged before he took off in the direction of the barn.

The vampire stared at me. I met his gaze with a sharp one of my own, not backing down, and crossed my arms for good measure.

He looked ready to laugh his ass off at the human girl indirectly challenging him. I darted a look at the barn, wondering if I should follow Carlo.

"Nice bike," He said at the last second.

"Nice car." I snapped it like an insult, which was stupid because it wasn't. Feeling threatened really brought out the worst in me.

His blood stained teeth flashed in the dark as he smiled wryly.

"You smell weird." His smile disappeared and his eyes narrowed. "Like..."

"Time to go." Carlo appeared beside me and the vampire blinked in surprise. I had tensed and crouched infinitesimally, bracing for attack, before I realized my brothers standing behind him looking violated.

"What took you so long?" My youngest brother spat the words like an accusation and glared at me.

I was used to them being angry. I have three brothers—all of them younger than me. I used to have five...

The three that were left all stared at me with accusation/worry/sadness/disappointment/fear in their eyes. One look from Carlo and their gazes scattered left and right. They feared him more than anyone or anything else—even more than Klaus.

"I told you they'd come," Jared muttered under his breath, the oldest at 13. He was also the most mature—but by no means less savage when it came to bloodlust.

"She didn't have to bring... _him._" Micah, the youngest at 8, whispered back, all accusation gone from his tone and replaced with awareness and fear. He shot a fleeting look at Carlo before looking back at Jared and leaning against him.

Carlo was staring at the vampire with narrowed eyes before he looked back to me.

"Be ready tomorrow." He said to me before getting on his bike again. The Ducati purred to life and my brothers moved back as he turned and screeched past us to the main road.

My brothers exploded into emotion.

"But how do we get home?" Micah cried in despair, watching the bike get smaller and smaller.

"We're running," Alex muttered bitterly. He was ten and barely Jared's height, and not much taller than Micah.

"You left us!" Micah turned the accusation back on me. "They shot us and we were bleeding. It hurt!" Micah's eyes filled with tears. "Why did you leave us again?"

I crouched in front of him and put my hands on his shoulders.

"Micah," I began firmly, "I was getting you a _soda. _One that you wouldn't stop crying about. So don't pretend it was my entire fault when there was nothing I could have done to stop it."

Micah transformed and growled, eyes filling with blood. He snarled and launched himself at my neck—but I kept a firm grip on his shoulders and kept him at bay. Jared cursed under his breath and caught Micah's blood splattered collar.

"Brat," Jared snapped. "Quit it."

"You _let _them take us!" Micah snarled and pushed forward. Alex caught hold of his arms and twisted them. In a second, the snarling, blood thirsty little boy was gone and replaced with the sniffling eight year old staring in fear, rearing back from us. "I'm sorry." He tucked his chin to his chest and sobbed.

I straightened and sighed, before catching sight of the vampire—staring at us.

He was frowning, tilting his head to the side a little in confusion. I knew where his confusion came from. It was unusual for kids to be vampires. No one would be stupid enough to turn them—except for Klaus. Most vampires were more than surprised at the sight of my brothers—like they had never thought of children being vampires in the first place.

My tolerance vanished and I glared at the vampire.

"Can you fucking mind your own business?" I snapped.

Micah hissed, "Isabella swore," and collapsed into giggles, tears forgotten.

I turned to glare at them in a way to tell them to shut up, and when I looked up, the vampire was gone.

* * *

My brothers weren't tired from the run—they were exhausted from the day altogether. They immediately dropped in various places of the apartment as I let them in, Micah on the ottoman, Jared on the couch and Alex in the armchair.

I avoided looking at them as I cleared the lounge, still breathing heavily from the run. Sweat soaked my tank.

On more occasions than once I heard the Ducati looping back, purring into the night as we ran through the forest. Carlo had been as subtle as possible, watching us through the trees, and only when I saw the apartment complex did he leave.

My phone was vibrating against the table roughly. The number claimed to be Unknown—but I knew it was Klaus.

"Did you get your sister back?" I said by way of answering as I shut myself in my room.

An organized mess met my eyes and a growl of annoyance met my ears.

"_Why are you working with Carlo?"_

"Carlo and I have come to an agreement—which fascinatingly doesn't involve you, unlike the rest of Mystic Falls."

Tragic, really. My whole plan was based on my revenge on Klaus, so ultimately it practically revolved around him.

"_You're lying. Carlo's wielding you like a puppet." _

"What do you care for how he's treating me?" I inquired curiously. "You did the same thing to me."

"_But you _knew. _You're too busy romanticizing Carlo to see anything,"_

"I romanticize no one; make no mistake in seeing that." I warned. "Carlo put me first and you put your priorities before me. I know where I stand. Make your choice before you demand anything of me."

"_I'm not _demanding _anything. I—"_

"You were _not _my first choice in protecting my brothers, Klaus. I came to you today to see where your loyalties truly lay—be it with me or the word you gave me. I've made my choice and realized your word means little more than the lies you feed everyone around you on a daily basis."

"_I've never lied to you_." He said sharply—but I caught a note of a plea behind his voice. I couldn't help the sly smile that spread across my face. "_If there's one thing you can trust, it's that I've never been anything but honest with you."_

"You have conveniently forgotten to tell me a few key points. And you underestimate my ability to see through your lies."

"_I forget nothing. I omit." _

"And evade."

"_But I won't anymore. Anything you want to know, I'll tell you."_

"And how do I know if you're serious?" I questioned.

I knew I should stop baiting him. A few more seconds of this and he'd be resort to _taking _what he wanted rather than asking for it. "Okay, Klaus. If you want me to do you a favour, you'll have to do one for me."

And the change in his demeanour was remarkable. One second, he was almost grovelling, and now...

"What kind of favour are we talking about here?" He asked defensively, closed off. There was a pause, then his silky voice came through, "Unless..."

"_Not _what you're thinking," I growled. "I'll hold you to it. And if you can't help me, I won't help you."

"_I'm not that kind of person to drop everything_—"

"Then you're not the kind of person I'd work with." I cut him off and spoke slowly. I knew the message had sunk in at the tone of his voice when he agreed.

"_One more thing, Isabella_." His voice made me put the phone back to my ear. He went on as though he was sure I was listening. "_Don't be such a sore loser next time_."

"Oh, please, Klaus. You know I delivered the final blow." I hung up before he could object.


	3. Chapter 3

When I was a little girl, I believed everything I did was supported by my family.

The feeling of being immune and invincible to bullies and hostility... it outweighed any insignificant emotion such as sadness or embarrassment.

I had brothers. 5 of them, and I was the only girl. Why worry about something as insignificant as my safety when they would ensure it? My three younger brothers wouldn't have been able to help in any way then, but my two older brothers had shut down every wrong look a person gave me with a look of their own.

If I could change anything of my childhood, it would be that. The false sense of security.

But that was the wrong way to put it. The security was not false. My brothers would have saved me from anything—in their power—and while they might not have paid too much attention to my emotions, they certainly made up for it in terms of my well-being.

What more could a girl want? I had a family, brothers who loved me and cared for me, a set path in my life. I could mess up a thousand times over and it wouldn't matter if I had a family to come home to, to see them look at me— even while disappointed—with love.

I would kill for that life again.

That wasn't even an over-statement. I would literally kill for it, because I have known more sadness and desperation—devastation in these past two years than I have ever supposed to have known. My security and protection shattered with shots of a gun. Four shots, to be exact. And three more brought down the lives of my younger brothers while I ran like the foolish, insecure mess of a girl I was.

"I'm not that girl anymore." I growled. I turned and slammed the wall with my fist and a moment of white pain blinded me before my wrist and knuckles healed.

"The punching bag is up there for a reason." Carlo said from behind me.

I whirled on him in fury.

"I don't—"

I cut myself off with a bite of my lip and took control. Some days my emotions took over. There was a time when I was ruled by them—and now I suppressed them and they felt almost alien.

"What was it you wanted today?" I asked and slipped off the gloves over my knuckles. Carlo stood in the doorway, his face blank.

I didn't exactly know what Carlo was... if he was a warlock, or like me in the sense that he's 'gifted' with no certainty of power—except Carlo was always powerful and always will be. My power depended on a certain activation.

He must be European. He had tanned skin, dark, green/blue eyes that always seemed to shift, and he was tall and well built. His expression always bordered on arrogance.

He also never gave anything about himself away.

"I assume you've heard about the blast that killed almost all the council members?"

I kept my expression impassive, although I was thinking... how _convenient_ that is for me.

"There were survivors?" I asked. He shook his head once.

"Not all council members attended. Everyone who was involved in the capturing of the vampires was killed." He paused and gave me a look. "Don't look so satisfied, Isabella. They were people."

I gritted my teeth and held his gaze. I thought I was getting better at keeping my emotions from my face. To be fair, Carlo hardly cared whether they were people or not. He just liked keeping me in check.

"That doesn't answer my question."

"I want you to go to the memorial today and see how many vampires there are in town."

I thought back to the vampire who watched my brothers and me last night. In all honesty, the only time I wanted to see him again is if he was dead. He had seen my brothers and me at a bad time—he saw just how much a part of my life they were as vampires. If anything Carlo had told me that had sunk in, it was that; that no one was supposed to know just how important they were in my life. It was a weakness, and the pastor had already seen that. To bait me in, he used my brothers. Maybe that vampire would decide to _try _to make a meal out of me, only to use my brothers as bait.

_That wouldn't happen. I'm stronger now._

"Also, Isabella," I hadn't noticed he turned to leave until he looked back. "Try to keep the late night chats with Klaus to a minimum."

I was definitely having a harder time at keeping my emotions off my face. I blushed and wanted to slap myself, because aside from the smallest innuendo Klaus had made, there was absolutely nothing sexual about that call, and the look Carlo was giving me suggested that was the only thing we had talked about.

So I stood there, blushing and glaring at his back as he walked away, larger than life.

* * *

The days during my brothers transitions were my darkest.

They defined me. They were the up there among my most terrifying of days, and that was no over statement either.

I said before that vampires were generally surprised at seeing children be vampires. It takes no genius to put it together; a child's body is not built to survive that kind of change—but vampires are vampires, and few things or people can kill them.

So my brothers suffered and I could do nothing but watch.

Their bodies shut down, they rejected all blood sources. I mourned them with every passing second. Their suffering had shattered my will to live.

Micah had almost 24 seizures in a day—every hour. There would be a horrible two minutes where he would turn blue, go still and stiff in my arms and I screamed because I could do nothing to stop it. There was no human doctor that could help me, and no one to comfort me. The only person who had remotely any idea of what I was going through was Klaus—who also conveniently did nothing but stand in the doorway, brooding and looking troubled. I had mourned my brother 24 times over in a day, thinking that it was _finally _the end—and he looked _troubled. _

Alex had a fever for weeks. His temperature shot and cooled, one minute he was sweating and the next turning blue from the cold. He had horrible mood swings and went in a rage so often Klaus had to inject him with vervain just to knock him out so he wouldn't hurt us. He practically developed a tolerance for it.

And Jared had it the easiest—he had starved, and no food could be kept down. None of them were accepting any blood.

I don't like to go down memory lane—so I'll get straight to the point.

The girl in front of the crowd was in transition and there was no question about it. I had seen many transitions and she was losing control. She breathed shakily into the microphone and sweat trickled down her forehead. It reminded me of when I asked Jared a deep question while he was sick and he would lose all thoughts—he would look at me as if he couldn't remember what he was doing, and he couldn't remember who I was.

Because the only thing on his mind was the blood.

And blood it was—in this room. It saturated the air and humans were oblivious.

Admittedly I was weaker. The power was leaving my system—gradually, but still leaving. I severely doubted my brothers would lend me a hand after locking them at the apartment today, which could only leave Klaus and the favour he owed me...

I shook my head and mentally added another face to the list of vampires in my mind.

The man from yesterday had given me what suspiciously looked like a warning glare when he entered, a devilish smile on his face, which promptly turned to concern, then confusion at the sight of the girl in front of the crowd.

I was a few rows directly in front of one of the vampires, and the man stood beside him after narrowing his eyes at me.

The girl, who had almost been struggling not to breath, gasped a little as a whisper of a word fell to the air.

"_Blood." _

A single drop of blood to the bowl of water. The man from last night said, "Nobody move. Don't turn around, it's a trap."

Well he was smart, I'd give him that. But a trap from whom? Were there actual vampire hunters in this town? Ones that didn't work with the council?

My mind spun at a million different scenarios. If there was a vampire hunter here, he'd be working against the council—or solely. No council member would launch an attack on vampires in the middle of a memorial.

Unless that vampire hunter was only trying to identify the vampires in the town.

Why go to such lengths when there were other ways to find out?

Wait, it might not even be a vampire hunter. Maybe someone just had an accident and cut themselves carelessly and the blood still stuck to the air.

But that wouldn't explain why the vampire from yesterday claimed it was a trap. I knew a sharp man when I saw one, and he didn't seem to be the overly cautious type at all. If he thought there was a trap, I was willing to bet there was one.

"I... um..."

The girl was still at the front, grasping the sides of the podium as though trying to control herself.

And then the boy vampire came. Stefan Salvatore.

I sat back and watched the scene with a grim sense of humour. Benevolence was not in a vampire's emotional capability, most of the time, but here the boy was, leading his— most likely— girlfriend off the stage with an arm around her, pretending she was upset.

The last time I had seen Stefan Salvatore was in Chicago, when he was slurping up some girl in his lap and Klaus made violent motions in the air for me to get the hell out of the warehouse before Stefan saw me. I wasn't surprised at the change. If anyone saw me a month ago, I'd have been pretty different too.

The hymn began and I mouthed the words as I listened to their frantic conversation.

This was not supposed to be part of my day, but I couldn't resist not listening.

"The blood, I can smell it. There's so much!" She was saying.

"Just remember what we talked about." The boy soothed her. "Focus, push back. Come on, you can do this."

"What's wrong with her?"

There's a new voice. I angled around a little and forced my expression to be innocent as I stared at a human boy standing beside the girl. The vampire for last night—I'll have to call him Blue Eyes until I find out his name, glared sharply at me.

So there's a human boy involved. How much did he know?

The vampire boy, Stefan, said to him what was obvious to me; the girl hadn't fed and was still in transition. Clearly he knew enough.

"Get her out of here," The human boy said tightly.

"We can't, there's somebody watching us," Stefan said quietly.

"I'm gonna go rip his head off, now." Blue Eyes. He seemed to be more vampire-like than the rest of them.

"You do that Damon, and you'll risk exposing all of us."

"Well, I think the risk will be slightly diminished when I, you know, rip his head off."

"Stefan, I'm losing it!"

"You have ten seconds before I go old fashioned on the new guy."

They knew who was watching them. I stopped listening and focused on the front, because I honestly didn't care much for their vampire problems. I had my own to deal with.

So far I had counted four vampires and one hybrid. One of the vampire girls, the blond one, had been in the basement with the hybrid while Klaus had taken over his body.

The hybrid now stood in front of the crowd, and this is where everything stopped.

I followed everyone else and sat down.

"Back in first grade, I was a brat who couldn't be bothered with team sports. I didn't care much about anything that didn't affect me. But he was the one who made me understand how important it is to be part of a team, a community. Of giving yourself up for the sake of a—"

Abruptly, the gun shot rang out and he spun to the right, collapsing.

If you've heard the sound of a gun before, you'd understand that the movies and tv shows, they don't have anything to the sound of one in real life. A gunshot is barely a bang and more of a shock, and it reverberates through you, and there is a split second of silence and, more shock, before everything goes to hell.

If it is unexpected—like this one was.

Screams burst through louder than the shot and everyone stood to leave. I let them herd me out at a slower pace.

My cell phone was ringing. I dug through my purse and pulled it out, pausing by the church. Everyone was scattering. I was surprised at seeing who was calling.

"_Where the fuck are you_?" Carlo demanded.

"Still at the memorial. It all went awry—"

"_Get the hell out of there. Do I need to spell everything out for you?"_ I gritted my teeth and seriously contemplated hanging up. I opened my mouth to reply but more gunshots disturbed the almost silence. "_Isabella,"_ He growled.

"Still here." I set the volume on lower and walked toward the edge of the building, catching a glimpse of a four wheel drive—without a door—drive past me.

Stefan stood over Damon and snapped out a reply I couldn't hear from the distance before striding off.

"_Are you all right_?" Carlo was still growling into the phone.

"Of course." I walked backwards, going out of view from the vampire. "Let me guess; you want me to interview the vampires and find out all their weaknesses."

"_Bloody fucking get out of there." _

"I'm completely fine. It's all safe." I said, confused now.

"_I said get out of there!" _He exploded. My heart jumped but I didn't, and instead closed my phone when I heard he hung up.

The vampire—Damon, stood at the side of my car. The street was completely deserted—everyone had run a while ago. He was looking at my car, my beautiful prize, like he was wondering who would leave it in their haste to get away.

I couldn't exactly blame him for those thoughts.

"Don't touch my car." I warned him.

He turned around in surprise then immediately his stare turned into a glare of annoyance—and still some surprise.

"This is your car?" He had holes in his shirt and blood stained them. "You didn't steal it, did you?"

"Judgemental much?"

His fake smile dropped and he turned to face me fully. I wondered what I was getting myself into by talking to this vampire, but I was the one who walked into Mystic Falls.

"So who are you?" He asked bluntly. I tilted my head at him in confusion.

"Does it matter?"

He went still, uncomfortable. He clearly didn't want to reveal anything, but I had learned that answering questions with questions was the only way to get answers.

"So where are the kids?" He asked. "Day care? Do they take special lunches to school?"

"Don't talk about my family." I snapped.

He did the most human thing and nodded, like he understood the sentiment. I tried not to sneer at him.

Something clicked. Stefan had called him Damon—and Klaus always used to snarl about a certain vampire brother who got in the way of his plans. His reactions were almost comical. I used to tell him that family was package deal, and if you wanted one brother as a friend, the other one would always be a part of that.

"You're the Salvatore who screwed up Klaus's plans." I stated. "The one that's... in love with his brother's girl."

My mind reeled and everything somehow pieced together. "The brother is Stefan and the girl was Elena, who's transit—" I cut myself off abruptly. I needed to get home and write all this down, sort my thoughts out.

I looked away from the ground, not realizing I had been staring at it, and snapped at Damon, "Do you mind moving?"

"What do you know about Klaus?"

From the way he was looking at me with a dangerous glint in his eyes, leaning like he wanted to attack me, I knew he hated Klaus, maybe almost as much as I did. Maybe a month ago, I would have planned an attack on Klaus with Damon, or worked with him against Klaus. My loud ringtone reminded me of what I had now that I didn't a month ago.

Damon frowned at my purse like he was wondering what kind of phone was capable of making such a noise. I grimaced as I answered it.

"_Where are you?" _

"Be right there. Thanks, gotta go." I hung up, leaving Carlo spluttering. "As wonderful as this chat has been, Damon, I need to leave."

I pressed the keys into my palm and waited for him to move.

He practically grimaced as he stepped away. I went through the motion of getting in my car and driving away without a second glance back.

The Salvatore's residency here could help me out a lot, it seemed. And Elena's transitioning... they were all pieces on my game board.


	4. Chapter 4

At the beginning of a book, you settle down in your seat to focus. You want to concentrate, so you'll be able to make sense of what will happen during your fictitious escape.

The smart readers will pay extra attention, because they know it is always at the beginning where everything is hinted at. The shallow will read with little opinion and allow themselves to take everything at face value.

But all readers will know that the end of the story, everything will be tied neatly in ribbons and bows, that everything will make sense.

That might be why the world depends so much on these escapes, or books; because in reality, rarely anything is tied so neatly. If you're lucky in life, you won't have to deal with too much loss. You will learn every day and mistakes will teach you without drastic consequences. You change for the better and not for the worse.

But like I said, that will only happen if you're lucky.

My 'fictitious escapes' were not books. They were my dreams.

If you've ever read a good book, you understand that the story in itself will only be as good as its author. Most deep parts of the story that are passionate have been experienced or understood by its author. A small part of the story always rings true. If you're a writer, even better.

Quite confusing to understand, but my dreams are my 'fictitious escapes' and I am the author of them. There will always be a part of my dreams that rings true. Everything I've experienced and understood in life comes back to haunt me in my dreams.

"Goody bags for the kids,"

I showed no reaction when Klaus walked into my apartment and threw bags of blood to each of my brothers in turn. They each scooted back just a little further into the shadows, but their gratitude flashed in their eyes in the split second of eye contact they made with Klaus.

They were still afraid of him.

Klaus looked at me last. He was wearing a grey T-shirt and jeans, something I couldn't help but notice. It was kind of... strange. Too casual for a wolf-y vampire.

"You know I never asked for them," I stood from the desk and turned the lights on. We had been sitting in the dark since I woke and it was making me sleepy, not in a good way.

Klaus nodded impatiently.

"Well, the kids have to eat at some point, love. Better for me to feed them than you."

He turned and walked around my apartment. It was the first time he was actually inside it; usually I never let him past the foyer.

I glared at his back. He trailed a hand over the flat screen, stared at the cartoon my brothers were watching on mute for a moment before turning back to me.

"You have to sleep at some point, too." He rose his brow as he said it but I saw the way his gaze lingered on my eyes and almost slumped posture. Frowning, I straightened and turned away from him to the kitchen.

My apartment was large and wide, open spaced and heavily protected against the sun despite its many windows. They were all shuttered heavily with metal, save for a few in my bedroom and bathroom, which also conveniently led to the large balcony and an emergency exit...

I guess I still didn't trust the last of my family.

"What say you have a rest and I'll watch over them?"

I had just started making myself coffee while watching my brothers from the corner of my eyes. Klaus braced his arms over my kitchen counter.

I turned to face him coolly. Would he watch over them, or me?

"You don't have to try to get on my good side." I would never tell him I was avoiding sleep not for the physical weakness but for the mental. "I told you I'd call in that favour when I needed it."

I placed my hands on the side of my mug as I stared back at him. I saw the impatience in his eyes.

"Are you going to tell me what the favour is or make me wait to death?"

I believe that the lengths people go to for their own purposes—be it revenge or an achievement—should not affect other's judgement over their character. I know what wanting and needing something does to people. I haven't judged Klaus over what he does to other people, but rather only what he does to me. Call me self centred, but I have my own purpose.

Maybe one day I'll revisit my beliefs.

I wanted to say, _"Well, Klaus, if I knew that's what would lead you to your demise, then of course." _

Instead, I gave him a whisper of a smile and the impatience in his eyes abated.

"I saw the Salvatore's yesterday." I changed the subject. "I must say I'm surprised. The last I saw of Stefan, he had a limp girl on him and he was still trying to drain her."

Klaus was watching me carefully, waiting for me to elaborate.

I held the mug to my lips and sipped my coffee, before drinking half in one go. Coffee was addictive.

"And?" The impatience was back and he glared at my mug as if it had stolen my attention. Men.

"Was there something you wanted, Klaus?"

He wanted to know what I thought of Stefan. If I would team up with him and go against Klaus. He stared at me before gesturing to the duffel bag he left in the doorway.

"Your old things," He explained.

"Leaving town?"

He turned back around, waiting to see my reaction to the news. Maybe Carlo could see right through me, but Klaus couldn't.

"Actually, my sister was about to burn them. I figured you wouldn't appreciate that."

I wanted to laugh.

"They're clothes, they're disposable." I shrugged and waited for him to leave. Subtly, I eyed the door. He had closed it after him. I had a feeling he got the hint but wasn't taking it into account.

"I mean it, you know." He said seriously. "You could get some sleep and I'll watch them."

There was the question again. Watch them or me? Were his eyes too wide? Was he trying to look innocent and sincere?

I finished the rest of my coffee, a way of declining. I saw the anger in his eyes. He didn't offer things often and didn't like to be rejected.

The slam of the bin top caused his eyes to snap toward Alex, who was throwing the blood bag away. He gave a little shiver and in the next second he was sitting stiffly on the couch. I noticed a drop of blood on the white leather.

"Clean it up, please, Alex."

"Do you let Carlo—"

"If you're so interested in talking about Carlo, maybe you should meet with him."

"No." His voice was low, bordering on a growl. I tilted my head.

"Alright." I glanced at my brothers. Alex had just sat down again, the boys were watching us. Their gazes snapped back to the TV at my stare. When Klaus leaves, they would be upset with me. Angry, maybe. Any predictability I used to know with them changed when they turned.

"Did you see Elena yesterday?" He was looking for reasons to stay. He wanted something from me. I kept suspicion off my face and nodded.

"It was hard not to."

"I heard about the attack. Tyler was shot with a stake."

Tyler must have been the hybrid. I had thought the shot sounded strangely abnormal, but I had chalked it up to wooden bullets.

"Flawless aim." I couldn't help but admit. "He was shot straight through the heart. I must say that's impressive." He was narrowing his eyes again.

He dropped it anyway and leaned on his side over the counter, staring at my brothers. They went still, staring at the TV, trying to look unfazed.

"How do you want to do this?" Klaus stood straight and angled his wrist toward me over the counter. "In here? The bedroom?" His gaze darted toward my closed door down the hall. I shot his look down with a glare.

"No thank you, Klaus. I'll be fine for a few days."

"This has nothing to do with your favour. What are you afraid of? It's not like I drink vervain, although it does seem to be a growing trend among vampires."

I ignored that last part, because I had no idea what he was talking about and I didn't want him to know he knew something I didn't. Pride is a tricky thing.

"Actually..." If Klaus knew the full effect of what his blood did to me, he wouldn't consider it. Last time I drank, I thought I'd pass out from his...baggage. I was a little afraid of what I'd find.

Without warning—or maybe I was too blind to see it—he bit into his wrist roughly, eyes flashing amber, and held it toward me.

"Come on, hurry up. Before it heals."

I grimaced as I pulled his hand toward me and drank. He kept his gaze on me as I choked down mouthfuls, and when I finished, I felt admiration, a little regret, and surprise. None of the emotions were mine.

And now I felt... interest. Something fond, maybe.

I exhaled and looked around for the dish towel. He had it in his hands, wiping away a little blood. I took it from him to wipe my mouth.

"You should go." Disappointment. "But, uh... thank you."Something fond again, pride. I groaned inwardly, stomach churning. "Um." Confusion. What was I supposed to do? Fluff him up so he'd do it next time too? "You didn't have to..."

Damn, when did I get so awkward?

The feeling was not mutual. Klaus was happy, prideful, looking at me with a cool gaze but he was feeling fond of me. He turned to leave and seemed to even think fondly of my brothers as he looked at them. Again, the feeling wasn't mutual. My brothers shifted their gazes as he walked out the door without another glance back, or a good bye.

If I hadn't drank his blood, I would have said he was impatient, slightly annoyed, glad to be leaving. But I did drink his blood, and he wanted to stay and talk, he was feeling fond of my brothers and I, he was proud of himself for getting back on my 'good' side.

I was not one to ignore new information. Two months ago, I had drunk Klaus's blood and all he felt was a little disgust and wonder. What the hell changed? I was barely seeing him. Was it the whole, absence makes the heart grow fonder?

I looked back toward my brothers.

My family had all looked alike. My mother had long blond hair and my father brown, although my father was olive skinned and my mother was fair. My two older brothers both had dark hair and olive skin, but Ryan had green eyes where Grant had blue. Jared and Alex could have passed for twins if they were the same age. They both had blond hair and blue eyes, tanned skin, although they were paler from the lack of sunlight. Micah looked like me; blue eyes and brown hair, tanned skin. Although his eyes were—

"Here we go,"

A pistol flew through the air and I caught it before it broke my glass cupboards. I looked up to see Klaus again, now in a leather jacket with a hoodie. Again, it was too casual.

Pride again, like he was the one responsible for my sharp reflexes. In a twisted way, he was.

I looked down at the pistol in my hand. A K100, 9mm semi automatic pistol. Loaded.

"I have my own," I said to him with a frown.

"We're going after the hunter. I figured you'd want to come and see what it's about."

"I do want to see..." I looked back at my brothers. They were on edge now, waiting for me to leave, they would be on lockdown in the dark house, reeling away from the sunlight. "Let me change."

I turned to go down the hall into my room. I didn't bother with stealth, only changed out of my pyjamas and threw on jeans and a tee. I threw on a leather jacket and slid the gun in the back of my jeans, tied up my shoes, and shoved my phone in my pocket.

Carlo had wanted me as far away from the Hunter as possible... but the Hunter could know something.

"I'll be right back, alright guys?" I called before shutting the door behind Klaus and me.

"Be careful, sis!" Jared called after me. I frowned when the door was closed, wondering where the affection came from.

True, it was hardly affectionate, but it was the most kind of emotion I'd gotten from him in two years that wasn't violence, anger, rage...

Klaus had driven his Cadillac Escalade here, a car he had bought on my advice, but only after I completely went off my head explaining it. Truthfully, I wanted him to buy the car for me to see if it was worth buying for myself.

"You updated it," I ran a hand over the side door, noticing the changes instantly.

"I only had it repainted." It was black in colour with matte details. I nodded in appreciation and I felt his satisfaction at my acceptance.

"We're going to hunt a Hunter," I said to him. "This isn't exactly covert."

"Covert isn't my style," Klaus said like it was obvious, and truthfully, it was. I still climbed in the passenger seat while he drove.

* * *

The man was tall, well built, bold, African American most likely. All business. Really I was surprised he didn't notice us. He was not quite human... he was, but just a little... off.

"What do you think?" Klaus whispered, although we didn't need to. If anything, we'd just look stranger.

I shrugged.

"Strange." I said out loud. "What's stranger still is that you haven't told me a thing about this plan,"

Abruptly, he walked away, confidence oozing from him and sureness that I would follow. I rolled my eyes and followed.

The Hunter was half crouched to the floor with arrows sticking in his arm and side, preventing him from reaching to pull out the arrows. I smelt the explosives in the cases bound to storage shelves and looked toward Klaus's back. Was he that sharp with his senses?

"Hello, mate." Klaus said in a friendly way that actually seemed sincere.

Damon Salvatore was leaning against a storage shelf. Were they literally working together?

"What do you think?" Klaus asked me again. The Hunter's gaze snapped toward me and he stopped struggling for a moment to stare, slightly slack jawed. I narrowed my eyes and tilted my head at him, confused by his reaction.

Damon whirled to face me and suspicion clouded his features.

"So you're _working _with Klaus." He somehow managed convey a million shades of judgement in his tone.

Klaus was satisfied, I was not.

"I'm not working with him." I didn't want to get caught up in Klaus's issues.

_She met him? _Klaus was wondering in his mind. His voice pierced my skull but I kept the wince off my face. He'd gotten much stronger, or I drank too much of his blood. It was the sharp thought he'd had since I drank from him.

"Well, you smell like Hybrid." Damon narrowed his eyes in accusation.

"Maybe we should get back on task, boys." I crossed my arms and looked fixatedly at the Hunter.

He was struggling to pull the arrows out.

"Keep it up, buddy. We'll be scraping you off the ceiling." Damon's tone was almost playful. I glanced at him sharply, then at Klaus. Weren't they more serious about this?

"You're gonna kill me anyway." The Hunter said.

"Well, let's not be too hasty." Klaus said offhandedly. "I feel like we're just getting to know each other."

Klaus turned to look at me with his brows raised. I shrugged at him from the doorway. I didn't quite know what the Hunter was. He seemed different...

"Let's start with the basics." Damon slid his fingers around a piece of paper and walked to stand beside Klaus. "Where're you from, what do you know? Maybe you can cue me in on this 'greater evil' because I've fought _this _guy," he gestured to Klaus, "and there's _nothing _more evil than that."

Again with the playfulness.

"Truth be told, I'm as evil it gets."

Klaus gestured for me to read the letter. I shook my head. I didn't care for their problems. The Hunter was only a threat to my brothers and I, and by the end of this little visit, he'd be eliminated.

"I'm not telling you anything," The Hunter said adamantly. "You think if you kill me it's gonna be over? There's _another _waiting to take my place."

"See, this is what I like to hear," Damon assured Klaus. "Vague threats, ominous prophecies, disappearing tattoos..."

I felt the tension in the air a moment before the violence. Klaus's smile dropped, the Hunter turned to glare at Damon suspiciously.

I took another step forward, then another, until I was in front of him. There _was_ a tattoo—on his arm. It was hard to believe it could disappear; it went all the way to his elbow from his wrist. It was too dark in the room for me to make out its details.

"What do you mean, tattoos?" Klaus was asking.

"Don't bother; you can't see the damn thing."

"It's a... _vine_? What is it?" There was a symbol on his hand and what looked like a vine or a snake trailing around it, past his elbow, even. I looked into the Hunter's face. He was frowning again, giving me that strange look from when I first entered.

"You can see it?" All three men asked at the same time.

I stood and backed away. I shouldn't have said it out loud, but curiosity got the better of me.

_Curiosity killed the cat._

The three men didn't further question, thankfully, although in their own twisted ways, they sent me silent messages. Klaus gave me a look that said, _we'll talk of this later, _and Damon narrowed his eyes once again suspiciously at me. The Hunter... nodded at me, like he was making me a promise. I found myself nodding back, as if I had a clue as to what we were nodding about. Really I just wanted him to stop looking at me like that.

"There's more to you than meets the eye, isn't there?" Klaus crouched in front of the Hunter.

He'd said the same thing to me once.

I felt the violence in the air a second before. "Klaus—"

The Hunter's arm shot out and in it a wooden stake of sorts. Klaus's hand shot out too, catching the wrist of the man, and for a moment I swear the tattoos shifted.

"Nice try, but I'm faster than the average vampire." The weapon cracked against his face and his wrist t snapped too. Klaus stared at the weapon he took from the Hunter, tracing a finger over the identical symbols on his hand. "You're one of the five." He murmured.

"The what?"

"I'm faster than your average hunter,"

Everything went slowly. All eyes shifted to his hand on the wire. The wire connected to the explosives, and in the next second, I was in the air, then face down on the floor and a blast of heat scalding my back. There was an arm draped over my back and glass crushed into my palms.

I stood, moving away from Damon, brushing glass from my clothes. There was glass embedded in my arms, preventing me from healing.

A moment of panic and I wasn't sure if it was mine or Klaus's. There was a fire still raging and then the glass was pressed further still into my arm and I cried out in pain in the air for a painful moment before I was shoved on my feet again.

"What the _fuck _are you doing?" Carlo growled in my ear viciously. His hand was still vehement on my upper arm, making me silently scream in pain. The glass was going in, deeper, and his hand was getting tighter before it loosened and he glared at the vampire on the floor. Blood trickled between his fingers and down my arm. There was a maddening rage about him, and he was looking at me up and down, unsure of what to say first. I was surprised he wasn't stammering with rage.

"Get off me!"

He was growling, low, and people were screaming up and down the halls.

"You _bloody fool!" _He snarled and began hauling me out roughly towards the exit. "I left you for a day and you're involved—"

"Carlo, let me go." I snapped, hoping he didn't hear my voice shake.

"You even drank him—"

"It's not like that—"

"It's _exactly _like that!"

I was stronger now. I had hybrid running through my veins. I pulled his arm away from mine and walked out in front of him, not wanting to be caught in the chaos.

"Do you _want _your family to be stuck alone? Do you _want _them to see your body and know all hope is lost for them?"

He was walking so close to me I felt his breath on my neck as he growled, violent, angry.

"I wouldn't have _died._" I said tightly as we walked out to the sunlight. His Ducati was almost right in front of the doors.

"Get on the bike, _Isabella._" He snarled. "And get your story straight. You're telling me _everything."_


	5. Chapter 5

My Dad was the father of six kids. Five boys and one girl.

He certainly didn't lack in money to raise us all. He had an inheritance set up for all of us, but I had inherited everything after every last one of my family members died.

Unfortunately, the life I lived with my father was not a stern one. My father never kept us grounded for longer than a few hours. He was soft on us. We had never been yelled at by him, and the only time I had seen him get remotely angry was for business and work.

The reason for that is simple; he was a workaholic and often had to make it up to us when he didn't make it home for birthdays, or any other celebrations.

I didn't blame my father. If anything, I believed we were lucky; we got to develop our own character and not have beliefs or opinions shoved onto us.

I was upset for my brothers. Never had they been yelled at like they were hearing now.

I watched my brothers cower in the corner, desperation in their eyes to get out of here.

I understood the feeling.

"Every time I think you're getting smarter, you do something stupid!" He was almost roaring—a few times he had, before keeping himself in check. "When you came to me, you said you would do anything. For what?"

Carlo didn't ask questions, not for himself, anyway. He asked them for my benefit.

"Revenge." I said quietly.

"I didn't hear you." He barked. My blood boiled in annoyance and anger. He knew how much this provoked me.

"_Revenge!" _I shouted and looked up at him. His eyes were predatory, narrowed, and livid.

"Why?" His voice was tight.

"They took too much."

"And you're getting downright _chatty _with a hybrid. Wait, that's not it. You're _hunting _a Hunter. When he finds you, he will _kill_ you. And I made it very clear."

His sentence was unfinished and he didn't need to clarify it. Repeatedly he had said if I was going to die, it would be by his own hands. I don't know if that was supposed to be reassuring... but in a way it was. Because he wouldn't let me die.

I'd just have to deal with the whole dying by his hands later, and burn that bridge when I come to it.

"I'm not sorry for what I did." I stood to meet his gaze and saw the pure irritation in his eyes. "I am my own person and I wanted to—"

"No." He cut me off bluntly. "You do not belong to yourself. You belong to revenge. You have since you watched your family die, and straying from that path will not honour them, it will only mean turning your back on your purpose. Don't give me your modern, feminism views. That is not your world anymore. I thought you understood that."

Being scolded by Carlo sucks. He has a way of phrasing things that just wake you up.

"If you die before you avenge your family, what will it mean for them?" He gestured sharply to my brothers, who all flinched as if he was about to strike at them.

I used to think it was only me who was afraid of Carlo's soft voice.

Carlo was still talking.

"You drank his blood." He had repeated it a few times over and I remembered that he didn't know I had drank from Klaus two months ago either. "I told you not to accept anything from him."

"Carlo, his blood made me stronger. Really, if it weren't for drinking it, I'd have been injured today—"

"_Because _of him. You never would have been risking your safety if it weren't for him." He was still angry as ever. Yelling at me probably did nothing for his rage because I didn't beg for his forgiveness. I don't know if he got off on that, but he seemed to only get angrier the more I stepped up to him.

"I got out of there in time—"

"Because of _Damon Salvatore._" He said his name bitterly and looked ready to sneer. "Of all people. You're with the only natural Hybrid and that bloody vampire who always gets in everyone's business."

"What's wrong with Damon Salvatore?" I asked innocently, trying to get more information. He looked like he didn't even hear my question.

"If you're going to be useful to me, you need to be alive. And healthy. So get some sleep, Isabella, and just hope that you don't get caught up in Mystic Fall's spider web. It's one fucking hell of a web to untangle."

I didn't ask what he meant. I was too wiped out. I said good night to my brothers and slept in my bedroom, knowing Carlo was pacing my apartment, wondering how to lecture me tomorrow.

* * *

"_School's out!" _

_My brother slammed the front door behind him and embraced my mother quickly in greeting. He turned to Grant, grinning and waving his car keys in the air. "Can you believe it? Five awesome days. Claire invited me to stay at her pool house—" _

"_The only place you're going to is the grocery store," My mother shattered his teenage bubble and put a hand on her hip. She smiled a glittering, amused smile at him. "If we're going to be stuck in doors for the next five days, we'll need to stock up."_

"_Mom, we've gone a week without shopping before," I rolled my eyes. "Just because they say there's a hurricane, doesn't mean there will be one. Last time we missed out on school—" _

"Missed _out? You're insane." Ryan laughed as he passed me to go upstairs, ruffling my hair. "I'm going up to change, we'll talk when I get back."_

"_You're serious, right?" I turned to talk to mom again. "You're not really going to let him go to Claire..."_

_My words trailed off. Mom was gone, presumably to check on Micah and Alex. I walked toward the Games room, looking for Grant on the way. I hadn't heard him leave, either. _

_The Games room was empty, and no maids lingered. Frowning now, I called for her._

"_Mom?"_

_She wasn't downstairs. I didn't panic easily, but I did now. I ran up the stairs._

"_Grant? Mom!"_

_I found him upstairs. _

_Every feeling malevolent slammed into me, rocked me on my feet, turned my stomach over, and shoved something sharp into my chest. _

"_You think you don't have to face me anymore."_

_His voice was light, familiar, lilting... serious. _

"_You face me every day and see me in your eyes." A pause. "In your brothers eyes..."_

_He turned, gesturing grandly behind him._

_We were back in the Games room. Blood covered the walls, in places it shouldn't be. My brothers were slumped—handcuffed. Still bleeding. Blue. Shackles around their necks. _

_Micah's eyes flash open. Blood filled. _

"You said you would save us_."_

I woke screaming, pictures of their blue bodies burned to the backs of my eyelids.

I heard a sharp knock on my door and realized Carlo must still be here. Light streamed through my window and my arm was completely numb and dully painful. When I looked at it, I realized why; it's bumpy with glass beneath the skin, because Klaus's stupid hybrid blood healed it over and Carlo was too busy yelling at me and I forgot about it.

I lunge out of bed and scream in rage, knock over my bedside lamp, watch as it shatters on the floor. Then I fix my shirt, smooth down my hair, and meet him outside.

Some days I wake with no memories of my dreams, but the taste of fear in my mouth. Today I wake with the memories and the taste in my mouth—cowardice, fear, everything I was that was useless to them. And then the rage sets in.

"You have to cut those out." Carlo said when I opened my door, gesturing to my arm. I glared at him and walked past him to the kitchen. It was his fault they got stuck in the first place.

He clearly didn't care for my anger or annoyance. He followed me to the kitchen, practically breathing down my neck. I made myself breakfast while he glared, and waited for my attention. My brothers are passed out in their bedrooms, windows shuttered in metal. With no daylight rings, they practically sleep during the day and wake at night.

"I want you to talk to Klaus today and make sure he knows that the Hunter is never to know about you." He began.

There were several things wrong with that sentence.

"The Hunter is dead, blew himself up yesterday." Aside from that, why was the Hunter never allowed to know about me? I was human technically. He couldn't kill me. And I really doubted Klaus would listen to me anyway.

"You might want to check again. Your wolf-y little boyfriend saved him. The Hunter is one of the Five—which, you conveniently failed to mention last night. That means he knows something about the Cure."

It was too early in the morning and I was hungry. I ignored the jibe and instead resumed making breakfast, which consisted of dry toast and what was left of the orange juice. I hadn't been shopping in a week.

The Cure, Carlo told me, was a secret among the Five. The Five, which Klaus had told me about a while ago, knew how to Cure vampires of their, well, vampirism. It had been a while ago, and immediately I told Carlo about the Cure, asked him to help me find it. Klaus had said that the secret died with those who knew of it; the Five had been killed. Carlo knew better.

The Cure was still around, among the Five—different ones. I didn't understand why he thought the Hunter was so dangerous at the memorial, but I do now; the Hunter wasn't something for me to face without back-up. Unlike everyone else I knew, I didn't have a huge issue with pride and I could admit that just fine.

Carlo knew the Hunter was one of the Five and must have been tracking him down. He hadn't told me, but I liked that about Carlo; he wouldn't get my hopes up until he really found the Cure. After my ecstatic response to an actual Cure being possible, he shot me down by clarifying that the Cure might require the Five themselves. He also shot down every one of my hopes with a thousand impossibilities to the Cure working that I almost lost all hope.

But I didn't need to, because Carlo had still been searching.

"Why would Klaus listen to me? The Hunter knows I saw the tattoos yesterday—"

"Fuck!" Carlo slammed a fist against the marble bench. "The tattoos. You told them you saw?"

He was angry again—or angrier than he was a moment ago. I didn't clarify; he heard what I said anyway. I knew why he was angry; I had made an impression, which made me easy to remember. "Do as I said and make sure Klaus doesn't mention you in front of him again."

He turned, preparing to leave.

"What if Klaus doesn't listen to me?" I demanded. He turned, and I saw a sardonic twist in his smile.

"If you trust him enough to drink his blood, you should trust him enough not to put you in danger."

* * *

The Hunter's trailer was in the middle of the forest, near a clearing. Neither Klaus nor the Hunter were inside—but Damon Salvatore was packing boxes of his things. I decided to warn him about the Hunter; I know just how much it sucked when someone who's supposed to be dead comes back to life, especially if they're the enemy. Besides, he saved me yesterday. I could at least thank him in a subtle way;

"He knows what you look like. I doubt you can avoid him."

Damon whirled around to face me. He was an average guy, but his confidence oozed out and made him more than that.

"What are you doing here?" He asked suspiciously. Big surprise there.

"Doesn't it get tiring, being so suspicious?" I understood it, though. I used to be suspicious. I still am, but I can sense danger easily now.

"Better to be suspicious than put under threat." He said the words like an attack, and then blinked when I raised my hands innocently.

"I'm not threatening you. Aside from that, you don't think it's a little ironic saying that, given what you're doing and where you are?"

Again, he blinked, surprised that I seemed to string a sentence together around him.

"Hey, I'm doing the guy a favour. Better to take all this stuff than for him to be labelled a nutcase."

There was a playful tone in his voice, a smile on his features. Now I blinked. Had I really just thought of him as average?

I shook my head and his smile dropped.

"He's not dead. Klaus saved him," His surprise was something to see. All expression drained from his face and there was a serious look to his eyes.

"Ah, shit." Sometimes that's all you can say. He rolled his eyes a moment later, like he thought he should have known. "So what were you doing hanging around Klaus in the first place? I wouldn't have thought he'd keep a human as a pet."

I ignored the insult and remembered what Carlo said yesterday—_the bloody vampire who always gets in everyone's business. _

I gave him a killer smile and said, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

He blinked again, surprised at me saying more words around him. Maybe he thought all human girls hung on his every word, that they didn't consider what he was asking and instead only thought of him being so different and confident.

Then his eyes scanned me up and down, assessing me, seeing if I really was human again. His eyes stopped on my bare arms, bumpy and still achy. I was avoiding cutting the glass out; it would take a lot of patience, blood, manoeuvring a knife around, and pain.

"It's glass," I assured him, because he was looking at me like I was a lizard or something. "My skin healed over it."

"You're just going to leave it there?" He frowned. I winced at the thought of pulling all the glass shards.

"I'll deal with it,"

I turned to leave. He called me back.

"What, you're not going to thank me for saving you?"

I didn't turn back, and called over my shoulder, "I already did."

* * *

I ran errands all day before getting a call from Klaus at around nightfall. He wanted me to come to look at something, which I knew was the Hunter and his tattoos. I had been avoiding going to Klaus, and aside from that, I had bills to pay, food shopping to do, and clothes to clean for my brothers. Not to mention getting them their blood and the hospital was on lockdown since the blood had been stolen repeatedly.

"I can't leave my brothers at night." I stole a glance at them, eating pudding cups, still on edge from Carlo yelling yesterday.

"_Bring them," _He offered. "_Rebekah's here and they won't be in any danger."_

My brother's shot me astonished looks. I turned around and bit my lip, then accepted. I'd come in, tell Klaus I couldn't be there because of the Hunter, and leave, maybe see if Klaus could give me any blood bags for the boys.

We were in the Maybach as soon as the sun was low enough not to hurt my brothers. Jared rode in the passenger seat with me and voiced his uncertainty.

"I don't trust him. At least Carlo tells you what he wants from you. Klaus is just..."

I didn't reply to him.

"I'm just getting you guys something then we'll leave. Apparently you know Rebekah." I shot them all questioning looks. Micah laughed a carefree sound that belonged to an 8 year old. I wished I still knew him.

"Yes. She's awesome, we played I Spy in the cages. She called me adorable." He laughed again, and something sharp twisted in my gut. She could look at him and say that. I looked at him and saw a corpse—the body of the baby my brother was and a monster inside it.

Make no mistake; I don't hate vampires. But my brother has been twisted into something that should never exist. One minute my brother's eyes were sparkling, the next they filled with bloodlust and rage and murder and desire to have me killed.

I coughed loudly, keeping the emotions at bay. Jared seemed to understand me, but Alex glowered in the backseat. Alex hated me some days. He was hung up on me not helping them, not saving them.

Being with my brothers opened fresh wounds in me all over again. It was like watching my family die, over and over. I was just as helpless in helping them now as I had been saving them two years ago.

Some days I feel like I died along with them. Like I'm a walking corpse too, waiting for a shred of _something _to save us.

Klaus's mansion always made me a little breathless in all its extravagance. I tried not to look at it too hard as I walked up the steps, my brothers behind me, Jared walking slightly in front of them, like he was shielding them.

Grant and Ryan used to walk around me like that, make sure no one gave me a strange look. I almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. Jared thought the vampires need the protection. Perhaps if I died it would be a relief for them; no more big sister to tell them to eat their veggies, keep them on lock down.

This time I laughed as I walked through the door. The hybrids have guarded the place strongly. They let me through to see Klaus, at a dinner table. A fourth place was set for me but not for my brothers.

"Isabella," Klaus stood and gestured at the last spot of the table. Rebekah give me the slightest smile, then something heart warming comes to her features as she looked at my brothers. Micah beamed at her.

Stefan Salvatore sat between them. I tilted my head, wondered if they were wonder twins again, him and Klaus.

Klaus's pride hit me. He probably couldn't wait to tell me he had rediscovered the Cure for my brothers, and that he was equally driven to finding it as I was because it meant more hybrids for him, if they could restore Elena.

"Come sit. You've met Stefan?"

I offered Stefan a short smile and again saw the limp girl he was still draining in Chicago.

I blinked and looked back to Klaus.

"Actually, I need to talk to you. Alone."

Klaus's confusion didn't show on his face, but I felt it. His blood was still running high and I felt everything he was—his fondness for my brothers and I didn't go unnoticed. I just had a different use for it than he did.

He closed sliding doors behind us in what appeared to be an office. My brothers sat on the dining table and talked to Rebekah.

"What is it?" Shit. He was concerned. Bloody hell, last month the man couldn't stand the sight of me. I opened my mouth to respond, but he held up a finger to silence me. "Wait, I have to tell you something."

He was still beaming at me, proud of himself. I waited uneasily for him to elucidate, although I knew what he was going to say.

"I told you before that there could be a cure."

Oh, God. He had to say it, didn't he? I feigned cluelessness.

"You said those secrets died with the one who knew of it." I said slowly.

"Yes—but they're back. I'm not sure how, but I'm going to figure out how to get the Cure again."

Great. Now I'd have to snap the Hybrid's happy bubble. I saw and felt the confusion in his eyes at the lack of response and emotion he saw from me. Clearly he expected me to be ecstatic; and I had been, a while ago, when I told Carlo about the Cure.

Gah. What was I supposed to say? Carlo was already searching for the same Cure and he already knew that the Five were the ones who knew of it? That he'd been searching for it a lot longer than we had known about it?

"The Hunter can't know about me," I said, almost blurted it out. Again, Klaus was confused. "He will try to kill me. As far as he's concerned, I'm not human, you know?"

"I wouldn't let him kill you," Klaus said, and something backed his tone—I frowned over the feeling, not quite recognizing it. Violence? Anger? "How do you know he's alive?"

"Carlo told me," I said quickly. "But that's not important. The Hunter will hunt me." Ah, I was mutilating the English language, all this talk of Hunters, and Cures.

"I need to use the map in his tattoos to lead me to the Cure." Klaus was frowning now, deeply dissatisfied. I could easily say he was PMS'ing with all these mood swings, but I was probably worse throughout the day. "And you can see the tattoos. I was thinking you could draw them out or describe them to me."

Well, that put me in the middle of the problem. I can't be the only person on the face of the Earth who could see his tattoo. Klaus was going to have to find someone else.

Except this wasn't only his problem; it was mine also, most likely the answer to my problem too. Except Carlo would kill me, or torture me, or mutilate my arm further. Okay, he wouldn't put me under physical harm, and I had to see Carlo's reasoning here. The Hunter wasn't going to ignore me if he ever got out. In fact, I'd probably put myself on his shit list just because of how unnatural I was. If he ever found out.

"You're thinking too much." Klaus was concerned again. I wanted to scream and shake his feelings off me. They were confusing.

"Not at all." I lied. "But I need to think about it. I'm not the only person on the face of Earth who can see his tattoos, right?" I asked, as if he knew the answer.

Surprisingly, he did.

"No, you're not."

He explained to me that he already had someone to do my work, but thought I was more trustworthy anyway and would rather I do it.

"What if you knocked him unconscious while I looked at them?" I asked. Carlo told me not to go near the Hunter, but if his tattoos would lead me to the cure, I wasn't going to stand around and wait for a human to do it for me.

"That could work," He mused. He brightened. "Stay for dinner, at least. Your brothers can be taken to the games room; my hybrids have been guarding the place."

"You have a games room?" I asked, and laughter bubbled in my chest at the thought of Klaus playing X-Box or a Play Station or something. He'd probably destroy it if it didn't work in his favour. I laughed this time. The wolf-y vampire, spending his days on game consoles.

"Actually, I had it built for you brothers."

My laughter died down. He had built the house a while ago, or renovated it. I couldn't imagine why he'd think I'd be around as often for my brothers to spend time there. He went on, explaining.

"The windows block out UV rays. You should bring them out more often."

I wasn't so much touched as I was suspicious; but his emotions were true, not a hint of malice behind them, just fact. Repeatedly, Klaus offered to have daylight rings made for my brothers, but I was afraid they would run and I'd never see them again.

"I'll draw them after dinner, then." I hadn't had a home cooked meal in too long. My breakfast, lunches and dinners consisted of candy bars and protein bars, anything I could eat while I was moving.


	6. Chapter 6

Dinner was awkward. Rebekah was still chatting quietly to Micah while he drank his blood bag; Alex and Jared were in the games room, not worried about Klaus anymore. Stefan was staring at Micah talk like he was... strange, I guess. Klaus's eyes darted around the table, impatiently and a little predatory or suspicious. I was eating way too much, on my second helping already. It was amazing—I had to count to five before taking another bite, or I'd be sick.

Finally, Stefan spoke. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but... these boys are your brothers? The ones who were in the cages with us?"

Micah flinched sharply at the mention of the cages, although in the car he had been talking about them as if they were just another games room. Now he stared at Stefan like he was only just recognizing him.

"You're the man who got shot," Micah said wondrously.

My brothers had also been shot, several times, but Micah must have forgotten. This is what being a vampire does to him; he's diseased, doesn't remember what he says or does until sharply reminded. Carlo explained it to me in the most sensible way; that his brain forced him to forget the horrible experiences.

Now Stefan stared at Micah like he was confused. There was an expression on his face I didn't like. Like Micah was a tragedy or something. Maybe he wanted to set up a charity for the little vampire children, get them serious help.

I _hate _pity.

"Yes, they are my brothers, and they are vampires, and they were caught in the cages with you."

I stared at him hard, dropping my fork, waiting for him to go on about how _wrong _it is for children to be vampires, like I had any say in the matter. Most other vampires said that to me, every time.

Somehow, everyone had become unpredictable to me, and he only stared at Micah before looking around at all of us.

"Are you human?" He asked me.

"Of course she is," Klaus answered sharply. "What, you're incapable of telling the difference now?"

"She just... I mean, you kind of seem like..." He was at a loss for words. I stared hard into his eyes, waiting for him to go on, see how much he knows.

"Isabella's special." Micah said now, narrowing his eyes at Stefan. "Is there something you want to say about her?"

He crossed his arms in front of his small chest and in that moment, he looked like the most adorable little brother I could ever have.

And then his eyes filled with blood, and fangs cut into his lower lip.

I looked away sharply while Klaus asked one of the girls for a new bag of blood.

I listened to my brother rip into it as I resumed eating, keeping a straight face.

"So, why are you here?" Stefan asked me, still watching me.

"She's—"

"You're not nearly as suspicious as Damon is naturally." I interrupted Klaus, who was about to jump at making excuses for me. Stefan raised his brow at the reference to his brother. "But you're still suspicious, even if you hide it behind your innocent questions. Is it a Salvatore thing?"

Slowly, a strange smile played over his lips and he stayed staring at me.

"You might say that."

"How old were you when you turned, Stefan?" I asked him. He looked like a boy, but his baby face and muscled body went kind of well with each other. Like he knew he wanted to be peaceful, but could show his claws when he needed to. It was a shame those kind of people caused more problems in the world than good.

"Seventeen. Aren't you a question girl?"

"You have a more youthful mind and yet you seem to be the one making the decisions involving your brother." I recalled the moment at the funeral where Stefan seemed to be telling Damon off, like he was the father or something.

"I'm a hundred and sixty five. I would hardly call that youthful," He was narrowing his eyes again, but interest sparked in them.

"Vampires always preserve that piece of their mind when they turn," I looked toward my brother. Micah would always have the mind of an eight year old. All his desires and goals went back to that, even if one day he'd become a voice of perfect reason. "It's not just your life that becomes immortalized. It's your mind too."

I had figured most vampires would have realized that long ago by now, but he seemed surprised. I finished my plate in the space of silence and stood, facing Klaus.

"I'll see the Hunter now."

Klaus set his glass down and walked out of the room. I waited for him to return, but faced Stefan and Rebekah.

"I need to ask you both for a favour. I'd like the Hunter to be oblivious to my situation. I need to protect my brothers, and I can't have him be suspicious—"

A loud yell interrupted me. I narrowed my eyes, looking in the direction of it.

"_What the hell are you_—"The voice cut off abruptly, but I knew who it was.

"I'll keep it to myself." Rebekah promised me, looking at Micah. Stefan only nodded.

The Hunter was more built than I initially thought. He looked like something out of a movie, something about demons and angels. The tattoo didn't look like a divine purpose; it looked like a curse.

Jeremy Gilbert, Klaus explained, was something of an anomaly in Mystic Falls. He could contact the dead, had a ring that brought him back to life, and apparently, he could also see the Hunter's tattoos. I couldn't help but view all those 'anomalies' as things that could help him be a Hunter. Although he _wouldn't_ become a Hunter, because his sister was Elena Gilbert, also a vampire now and she was dating Stefan Salvatore and had her sights on Damon simultaneously.

What a town they lived in. Really, you'd call the whole town an anomaly, not just the one human boy caught in the middle of it.

"Last time I saw you, you were beating up Klaus." Jeremy said to me as I eyed the Hunter. His chin was against his chest, eyes closed, a bruise forming on the side of his head. "Now you're helping him?"

"Look, Jeremy," I turned to face him. He had a young face, a young innocence, young stance—everything about him was young, but for his eyes. He had seen too much death. But we all had. We were all too young to deal with this shit. "I don't appreciate people wanting to know why I work the way I do. I keep everything in perspective. I work for myself. If you have any questions that involve you, go ahead and ask. Everything else about me is personal."

That was a lie. Not _everything..._ but a human in a vampire's world had no secrets. If I told something to Jeremy and he was confused, he'd ask his sister, who would ask Stefan, in turn asking Damon...

Jeremy was silent while I studied the Hunter. His name was Connor, but I saw him as 'the Hunter' because he would only see me as 'The Vampire's sister.' That's the way my world worked. I gave no courtesies.

"How about this; why don't you want Connor to know you can see his tattoo?" I looked at him over my shoulder. He shrugged. "It does have something to do with me, I can see the tattoo."

"What are your observations?" I ignored his question and stayed staring at the tattoo. There was something... strange about it, something that seemed to cut off abruptly.

Jeremy was beside me and handing me a drawing in answer. I took it from him, nodding my thanks, and realized the tattoo he had drawn looked more like a... vine. It was darker on paper. Seeing it on paper made me realize how it wrapped around his whole arm. Some symbols were harder to see and make sense of.

My annoying, loud ringtone resonated through the room, and the first thing I noticed was the Hunter's shiver. My hand flew to my pocket and I answered it in the next second, pausing, staring at the Hunter, making sure he wouldn't wake.

He didn't, but from the amount of noise blaring from my phone, he would soon. I turned the volume down before bringing it to my ear.

"Hell—"

"—_brothers are gone."_

"What?" My stomach dropped out from under me.

"_I'm at your apartment, and there's no one home. Is there a reason your brothers are gone?"_

I sighed in relief, even though I knew Carlo would just get more pissed off when he realized where I was.

"They're with me." There was a long pause.

"_And where are you, Isabella?" _

"I'm at Klaus's,"

"_Is there a reason you're at the home of the man who turned your brothers into vampires?"_

"Yes..." I answered cautiously. "I'll talk to you when I get home." I waited for him to explode in outrage or something, but instead, he was quiet for almost half a minute.

"_Very well, Isabella. Just remember who you're dealing with." _He hung up, leaving me wondering whether he was talking about himself or Klaus.

I sensed Klaus a moment before he walked in the room. Jeremy had the book in his hand again, and he was sitting on the armchair. Klaus shot me an almost annoyed look before looking over Jeremy's shoulder.

"Nice lines." I also felt the honesty as part of that statement, and belatedly remembered Klaus's 'hobby' of art, how at times he would be obsessed with it. "Now if you could just hurry it up a little bit,"

Jeremy stood in annoyance.

"I'm done," He handed the book to Klaus, who snatched it from him.

"What is this?" He stood in front of the Hunter, eyes scanning the drawing, then the man.

"It's the tattoo," Jeremy practically rolled his eyes.

In the next second, Klaus's hand was around Jeremy's throat. I felt the violence too late, the annoyance, and the anger.

"I've seen the tattoo, you impertinent punk. There's more to it."

"Klaus." I growled, reaching over and tugging on the neck of his shirt. "Get off him."

"That's all of it," Jeremy insisted, voice choked. Klaus didn't look back at me, but shoved him in the chair when I pulled at his shirt again. Jeremy breathed deep before going on, "He said every time he kills a vampire it spreads."

"You could have asked _me _if that was all of it," I snapped at Klaus's back. He wasn't feeling any kind of guilt.

I know how twisted it is to expect a vampire to feel guilt.

There was a big difference between Klaus and Carlo. Klaus was still human—in his emotions. He felt sadness, love for his family, wanted what was best for them—even if he couldn't give them that. I'd seen him... cry. Crying was one thing I refused to ever let myself do. With me, I associated tears with uselessness, helplessness, something weak. But when Klaus cried, it seemed to be something... like a way of letting out his inner emotions without worrying about consequences.

He looked at art that way too. He said to me once; _no one knows what you mean by it anyway. You can say what you want and no one knows._

Carlo... I don't think Carlo is even capable of tears. The man reminds me of an animal; lawless. Driven by instinct, determined to reach his goals. Everything to him was either a benefit or a waste of time. Sometimes I admired him, and other times I wondered how he became this person, what kind of horrible things happened to make him end up that way. He didn't even seem to be human. Nothing was confusing with him. He was basic, understood what he wanted, knew what _I _wanted, and helped me because I agreed to help him.

How I could help him was still a bit of a mystery, but he was adamantly certain I could.

I realized the clear difference between them both in that moment. From Carlo I expected nothing—only my safety. And from Klaus, what I was expecting of him was something I couldn't expect from my brothers, either.

With a pure look of hatred directed at Klaus, I used his speed as I ran out, toward my brothers. How could I look at a wolf vampire who choked a teenager only few years older than my brother? How could he feel fondness toward my brother and be ready to kill Jeremy?


	7. Chapter 7

I was never a peaceful person after what happened two years ago.

Most people descend slowly into the vengeful part of themselves. It's a long, rocky—but slippery, road to go down. People will swear they won't be driven by revenge, and try to retreat to their human emotions and forgive, forget, try to move on. Except... maybe one day it was too much to deal with—and there they are, vengeful.

Unfortunately, I am not like most people.

I was driven by a rage and bloodlust—not the vampire kind—immediately after what happened. I didn't stall. The situation had become too personal too quickly. Before, I would have wanted them to suffer for ruining my life, and my brother's lives, and ending the rest of my family's lives.

But now I needed them to suffer.

Carlo says that's what drew him to me at first; my plunge into retribution. Flattering—not that I cared. If Carlo found me interesting, or whatever...

I banged the door in without bothering to knock.

There was a moment of silence, absolute nothingness, as I walked through the foyer to a beautiful lounge I'd love to live in. It reminded me of my parent's library.

In the next moment, I was facing the Salvatore brothers, looking more suspicious than ever. They didn't need to be suspicious. I was laying all my feelings on the table here.

"You fucking dickheads." I growled. Stefan winced.

"Isabella—"

"No." I interrupted him, holding a hand up. "I get to talk here. You boys _shut up _and _listen, _for once in your lives._"_

Damon crossed his arms over his chest, looking annoyed. I was a second away from tearing their heads off.

"Not everything is about _you _and _Elena_. You _killed_ the only chance I had at saving my brothers." Damon and Stefan simultaneously looked down, in shame or boredom, I wouldn't know. I didn't care, either. "Bastards. That's all you are. You, _Damon Salvatore_, are convinced that killing is the only answer. Sometimes it is! But you don't _kill _someone just because you don't know the full story. And _you, Stefan, _are so convinced you're doing the best you can for Elena, and everyone else in the world, you're fucking _blind to everything else_!"

"He was going to kill humans—"

"Shut up. _Shut the hell up_. I know e_verything _that happened." I turned to Damon, "You told Elena to kill him. And Stefan, ever the _bunny lover_, decided to try a _peaceful _approach. _She _didn't need to kill him, but she did, because you bastards decided to withhold information from her."

"How the hell do _you _know—"

The gun was out of my jeans and in my hand. Gun shots were always under-rated. The loud bang resonated through the house and blood seeped through his shirt. He groaned for a second; looking down in surprise, and realized it wasn't a wooden bullet.

Stefan lunged—and his hands caught air as I looked at him from behind, further into his house. He spun around, confused, before staring at me standing behind Damon.

"Don't fight me, boys." I warned. I walked passed them and slammed the front door shut behind me as I left.

* * *

_The Night Before:_

"How the hell are you supposed to think this is a good thing?" I demanded.

Carlo leaned against the wall by the kitchen, a mask of urbanity set on his face. He was still, calm, and had faith in his plan; I was pacing, and trying not to yell at him. I was mostly failing with the whole yelling part.

"It will all work in my favour." He promised. I threw my hands up.

"And what of my favour? Huh? He's _gone, _how am I supposed to get anything—any answers now?"

"The Hunter was useless in the Hybrid's captivity. We'll get more answers this way. And note the _we _in that sentence, Isabella; don't go off and do something stupid in panic."

"No, what's s_tupid _is letting him get away! You could have stopped him."

"I could have." He agreed. I didn't wait for him to elaborate on why he didn't. Carlo kept almost everything to himself. My annoying ringtone—I really needed to change that—played up again and I leaped for my phone on the kitchen bench, holding it up to my ear to answer it. Carlo went still and narrowed his eyes dangerously. I got a glimpse of the man I first met; the predator.

I turned away as I spoke.

"Hello?"

"_Has word gotten out yet? I suspect Carlo is gloating over the failure of keeping Connor trapped." _

"Yes." I said shortly. I was still angry about last night. "You have a nice time in Italy."

"_Isabella, wait."_

Desperation is a disease, and I heard it in his voice. It can be contagious; caught from the simplest of moments, small things, not getting what you want... or need. I wanted to hold the phone away from my ear and close it, hope that I didn't get infected with it.

He went on anyway.

"_I'm looking for the sword. I know where it's located, but I just want you to know we're still working together. I'm not leaving you alone in this—we'll find the Cure." _

"I work with no one." I hung onto that part of his statement, not wanting to get all personal in front of Carlo.

"_I know you got upset over Jeremy yesterday, but I wouldn't treat your brothers that way. They're—different."_

"Different how?" I asked softly.

"_I can't explain it now, sweetheart. I'll talk to you about it when I'm back."_

"Sweetheart?" I repeated at the same time Carlo growled. I turned back to look at him. His eyes were gleaming, dark, teeth gritted, lips pressed together. It was _not _a human sound. "I am not a piece on your game board, Klaus. I have my own game board. One that doesn't need to involve you."

"_Isabella—"_

"And stop saying my name like that. I'm not a child."

"_I know—I know that better than most people. I still want to help you. I don't think of you as—as a piece on my game board. You're a friend to me."_

"Then you should respect my wishes. I just want a little space right now. If you find anything, let me know, but don't act like you're doing this all for me, when I know you're also doing this for yourself and your... hybrid situation."

"_If that's how you feel..."_

"It is." I said adamantly. There was a silence, a pause.

"_I'll talk to you later, then, lov_—Isabella."

I hung up and jammed the phone in my pocket. When I looked up, the violence in the air turned into an incessant buzz—and then I was against the wall, Carlo's hand around my throat and both my wrists held by one of his above me.

"Are you working against me?" He bent his neck, his head beneath my chin, face almost against my neck. I grunted at the impact belatedly, registering the pain in my head. His question also registered belatedly, and he was... s_niffing _my neck. I wondered if he could smell lies. Sometimes, the way he saw right through me...

"No!" I snapped indignantly.

"Are you working _with _the Hybrid against me?"

"Didn't you just hear what I said to him? I said—" His hand tightened around my throat, my words choked off.

"I heard what was said." He raised his head to look at me. His eyes reminded me of the blue in a fire—something that looked cool, but if you touched it, you'd burn. "And I know you're not satisfied with the work we're doing, so it would only make sense for you to conspire—"

"Carlo." I said in a low voice, interrupting him.

"Where do your loyalties really lay, Isabella?"

"Get _off—" _

"_Where do they lay?" _He demanded. His eyes bored into mine. It was different from the Compulsion. This demand seeped through my eyes, through my ears and took up every inch of my brain, incessant, _waiting _to be answered—

I turned my head away and shut my eyes.

A loud groan escaped me. I held the words back, biting them, but they seemed to escape, even though I was biting my lip so hard I tasted blood.

"Bella." He touched his thumb to my lip, wiping away the blood. A thousand memories slammed into me, reminding me of the way my family called me... I threw myself at him, as soon as his hand was away from my throat, turning my head back and opening my eyes, my mind burning, and the force knocked us both down and probably because he was still holding my wrists.

"_Don't call me that!" _I screamed. He looked at me in astonishment—at least; I think that's what it was. Carlo's expressions were hard to read. It was gone before I could look further. I sat up over him, my legs straddling his waist. "My loyalties lay with my family. So screw you."

"Call you what?" He was frowning. I glared at him, annoyed he ignored the more important part of my sentence.

"Don't call me _Bella." _I spat.

"I didn't call you Bella." He said slowly.

"Yes, you did."

"No I didn't."

"You did!"

In the next second, I was under him, and he was leaning over me, dark laughter in his eyes, knees pressed against my hips.

"No, I didn't."

I took a shallow, gasping breath. He threw his head back and laughed, and when he looked down at me, my stomach dropped. His eyes were bright, not gleaming in anger but in... elation. He wasn't so much as smirking as he was whole-heartedly smiling, and I felt my expression drop as I stared. Was this why he kept his expressions in control so much?

Because looking at them... made you want to free him, from whatever he was stuck in so deeply?

He stared back at me, and slowly, his smile dropped, the expressionless mask slipped over his face again.

Carlo stood over me now, hand held out to help me up. I laid there on the ground a moment longer, astounded at the complete show of emotion he had put on, before knocking his hand away and standing myself.

Was I wrong when I thought Carlo didn't experience emotion? Was he like a vampire, feeling so much emotion he had to hide it?

I stared back at him, his careful stance, expressionless eyes, and decided he did feel. It was just _what _he felt that was more important.

"Stop looking at me like that." He was annoyed. My gaze snapped to the floor, before I met his again. Stupid. I wasn't about to get intimidated by him, or at least show him that I was. Carlo was an intimidating person; even Klaus was intimidated by him, and that had to mean something. "Get your things. We're leaving, now."

"No need to boss me around." I said through gritted teeth. He took the remote off the bench and jammed it in his pocket while I slung my bag over my shoulder. Metal shutters groaned, sealing every window and the front door as we walked out.

* * *

We were in Paris. It wasn't my first time here, and while that could have meant I was a little used to it, I wasn't. Last time we were here—Carlo and I, he dragged me around the city and ordered me to walk through museums and stare at things.

This time, it was just sunrise when we landed, and the flight had actually been decent. Carlo had his own jet, so it wasn't a completely horrible night.

"Here." Carlo thrust a book in my hands. I handed it back to him.

"Nope."

"Hold it." He growled. Sighing, I took it back, and narrowed my eyes at him. With a great show of taking a deep breath and closing my eyes, I... concentrated on what was in my hands.

Carlo didn't know I could sense everything that was inside it with the first touch. No one really knew the capabilities of my true powers. Really, if he just let me run a hand over each object, we'd be done by now, but he was meticulous about these things and adamant that I hold each item for longer than fifteen seconds.

"Nothing." I gave the book back to him. He walked around the desk—and much like last night, I found myself staring at his graceful, lithe movements before snapping my gaze back to the table. He caught my eyes and smirked as he handed me the next object.

It was a... blade. The metal was silver white and long, curved, and the hilt was black and strong, sure in my grip. I ran a hand over the cool metal. This one was... held by Elijah once. It wouldn't be wise to tell Carlo that I knew Elijah well enough to sense what he touched. That wasn't what he wanted to hear.

Carlo told me to tell him if I sensed something similar to him. I still wasn't quite sure what that meant, but I think he was looking for someone related to him.

He rolled his eyes as I hummed. My humming cut off and I stared at him. Was he... mocking me?

He narrowed his eyes and frowned at me.

"Quit staring at me."

"Do it again." I grinned. "You just looked like a teenage girl with attitudinal problems."

"Don't be ridiculous." He let out a short laugh. "_I _look like a girl? You look like an Irish princess dressed in rainbows."

I'm sure that was supposed to be an insult. Instead, I smiled sweetly.

"You think I look like a princess?" I cooed. Carlo's eyes narrowed further. "Thank you. And as for the rainbows, I'm allowed. I'm a girl."

"I am aware of that." His gaze roamed over me, lingering on my chest a little too long. My cheeks warmed and I snatched the next relic from his hand and—gasped. I had expected it to be nothing, but...

It was Carlo. Or it wasn't. The... feeling I got off the item—it was like breathing a lungful of sweet air, poisoned sweet air.

Carlo was different. Carlo was like... sweet air but only a memory of it, clouded by his anger and annoyance, and his adamant thoughts of today. The item was poisoned sweet air, the same unexpected sweetness from Carlo, although this was dangerous. It was pure sadness and hopelessness, although there was an echo of the same adamant thoughts Carlo had.

I looked down at the item as the feeling faded. It was a toy, an old wooden one, handcrafted in the shape of a car. The handles of the door and the top part of the frame were varnished in brown, and the wheels spun as it slipped from my fingers, leaving me clutching air.

Carlo caught it before it touched the floor of the library. I saw the way his hands framed the delicate figure, and knew he made it. Clearly it hadn't been for him... the question was on the tip of my tongue. He looked at me and, like I communicated with Klaus without words sometimes, I knew he heard my question.

He glared at me harshly; lips thin, daring me to say it out loud. _Do you have a son?_

"Don't do that again." He snapped.

"Fine." I snapped back. I'm not sure why; I think I just wanted the last word. I don't even know what he was talking about.

Whoever the car belonged to was definitely related to Carlo.

The rest of the day was draining. My power wasn't like boundless energy or something. I needed vampire blood for it, and the more I used my power, the more blood I needed. The whole, touching and sensing items that belonged to certain people was a 'gift' from a witch. The witch was crazy, and she was my aunt. She used to work for Klaus, until apparently she died by abusing her power, but not before giving me some sort of... echo of her power. I was just glad I didn't need to use spells.

* * *

"What the _fuck! _What—how did you let this happen?"

I flinched as Carlo roared. He was going to blow the microphone on his phone, I was sure. My brothers were hiding in their bedrooms and the room was dark, black when we first walked in and turned on the lamps. And then Carlo was shouting and—his face was angry again. His gaze kept darting between me and the bag and then nothing. Finally, he pocketed his phone. I stood awkwardly, waiting for him to explain what happened.

"Your little wolfy boyfriend made this Hunter situation his business and now he's dead."

"What?" Klaus was dead? I thought he was invincible—and immortal, and wolf-like and vampire— "How can he be dead? He's immortal!" My voice was unusually shrill and high pitched. Carlo blinked, and slowly, a sardonic smile came over his lips.

"I meant the Hunter, Isabella. Unless you're more worried about the wolfy boyfriend of yours—"

Time seemed to slow down and Carlo's voice faded. I saw my brother's faces as I closed my eyes and realized what Carlo was saying. The Hunter was dead—Connor, the only chance I had at saving my brothers and giving them their lives back—the only way I could have undid what happened two years ago, he was _dead. _And the Cure died with him. Heat tore into my palms and then my knuckles. My ankle throbbed and my throat hurt. I realized someone was roaring—it was me. Blood was falling to the floor and there was a hole in the wall—several holes, and my arms were banded behind my back abruptly.

"I'll tell you what to do," Carlo was saying in my ear. "Just stop it. Isabella. _Stop._ There are _five _Hunters. Stay calm."

The violence and anger in me didn't abate; it never did. It was always there, but I hid it well, disguised it and it only surfaced when... when my brother's lives were in danger.

I used the anger when I needed to—and facing the Salvatore brothers was exactly the kind of outlet I needed.

Carlo waited in my car while I invited myself in the Salvatore residency.

"You fucking dickheads." I growled.

"Isabella—"

"No." I interrupted Stefan, holding a hand up. "I get to talk here. You boys _shut up _and _listen, _for once in your lives._"_

Damon crossed his arms over his chest, looking annoyed.

"Not everything is about _you _and _Elena_. You _killed_ the only chance I had at saving my brothers. Bastards. That's all you are. You, _Damon Salvatore_, are convinced that killing is the only answer. Sometimes it is! But you don't _kill _someone just because you don't know the full story. And _you, Stefan, _are so convinced you're doing the best you can for Elena, and everyone else in the world, you're fucking _blind to everything else_!"

"He was going to kill humans—"

"Shut up. _Shut the hell up_. I know e_verything _that happened." I turned to Damon, "You told Elena to kill him. And Stefan, ever the _bunny lover_, decided to try a _peaceful _approach. _She _didn't need to kill him, but she did, because you bastards decided to withhold information from her."

"How the hell do _you _know—"

The gun was out of my jeans and in my hand. I shot him. He groaned for a second; looking down in surprise.

Stefan lunged—then spun around, confused, before staring at me standing behind Damon. Sometimes Klaus's blood really shone through and I was as fast as him.

"Don't fight me, boys." I warned. I slammed the front door shut behind me.

"I know they felt guilty." I said to Carlo later, "But I'm not sure they would be more careful next time."

"There won't be a next time that involves them." Carlo assured me. "At least now they'll think of you if there's a cure involved. They'll keep you informed."

"So you don't plan on keeping me informed?" I raised my eyebrows. He shrugged; an action that looked elegant and foreign on him.

"Only as much as I ever have."

"So, not much then." He raised his brow, looking over his shoulder at me. I sat back against the couch and he leaned forward, arms on his knees. My smile was partly teasing.

"I'll keep you informed of the Hunters." He promised. "But not like your hybrid boyfriend."

I knew what he meant. Klaus felt the need to inform me of everything involving me. Carlo kept me informed only of what could change things. He had told me about a Cure but not about the Hunter and how complicated the process might be of acquiring the Cure. He didn't give me hope—only options and choices. Klaus was one for hope. I didn't quite like the idea of hope. It's overrated, I find, and that when people are consumed by it over and over, and brought down again, it only makes them broken and bitter. It's best to keep a realistic view of life.


End file.
